glowfic | Entries tagged with continuity: sandbox

Lord Callida's gotten more freedom, ever since she earned her lord status. Her own ship, her own crew, her own missions. She's expected to not get herself killed or do anything stupid, but if she wants to manage her people in a way that Occlus finds kind of bizarre, Occlus is completely fine with it.

So when her engineer does not calm down, and still flinches every time she walks by - well, she finds a replacement, and she decides to transfer him to a place where he does not have to be near a Sith Lord. She has her translation droid, N-V09, nicknamed Envee, conversationally ask him where he'd like to live. Because if she asked he'd whimper out how he's happy where he is, and that's not the honest answer she wants. He turns out to have friends on Balmorra, and quite mysteriously, Callida learns of an open position on Balmorra and sends him a message asking if he would be willing to serve Darth Occlus from there. As it happens, he does, though he prefaces the reply with lots of I'll stay if you still have need of me, my lord, just say the word and I'm your man. She snorts and transfers him.

The astromech droid she picked up on Narr Shaddaa is quite happy with its new status as her ship's engineer, and is much less terrified of her. It rolls up to her near immediately, and beeps, Callida == buy new set of hydrospanners // TN-R13 == hate current set // TN-R13 == unable to do job and is perfectly happy to lead her to the exact set of hydrospanners that it would like. And then it beeps at her the next day, asking for a chassis upgrade and a set of wheels with more traction. Callida considers this a job well done, and upgrades the droid.

She wonders if she's going to end up replacing her entire crew with a legion of loyal droids that are just thankful she treats them in the same category as people. ... She might, though her pilot and doctor both seem perfectly happy to work with her. She'll see about defenses against ion based weaponry, just in case.

But ion weaponry isn't likely to crop up in the tomb that she's been asked to clear out for the archaeologists, so she tables that search for now. Droids as a rule, do better in Sith tombs than organic life, but they don't escape unscathed from the dark aura that tends to permeate the tombs of Sith. They'll stay on the ship, she'll walk in and kill any creatures living inside, dispell any ghosts that still haunt the premises, and disable any traps, and then she'll estimate how long anyone that isn't a Force-sensitive could stay in the tomb without their minds being twisted, and go from there.

Clearing out the tomb might take a few days, so she's packed for them. Ration bars, canteens, water purification tablets, and other such necessities. If she runs out of supplies she can always retreat back outside, but she'd like to get the tomb cleared out in one trip.

Unfortunately for her, she barely even makes it past the threshold before the scenery abruptly changes, and the oppressive feeling of the dark side dissipates. Instead of a dark tomb, she's in a forest of some kind.

She frowns, and begins carefully searching her new environment. This tomb just got a lot more interesting.

sturdycoldsteel

The Fate who calls herself Mountain tried to convince some of her neighbors to allow the occasional mountain in their lands, for stability purposes.

"I meant no insult!" Dodge ball of lava. "I don't intend to interfere, you said no!" Dodge house-sized spear of ice. "I'm leaving peacefully, okay, so stop tearing up the tile!"

"You'll respawn at home. No permanent damage. You interrupted an important meeting, you need to learn a lesson about territory, mountain bitch." Dodge- no, fail to dodge a thrown tree, and then another ice ball. Survivable, but it put her in a perfect position to be hit by a sphere of magma and disintegrated by the sheer heat.

She wakes up, stripped of all her tools and enchantments and even clothes, and groans in pain.

aestrix

There is a certain reason why wandering around outside by yourself while looking dismayed and thinking about your troubles might get you a bit more than sore feet, burrs in your shoes, and catharsis.

Sometimes, you might just find a mysterious old woman. It's hard to tell them apart from perfectly ordinary old women, just the way mist curls around her feet or for the way her eyes catch the light a bit too well, or other telling signs of mysteriousness. Those vary, though, and often it's quite a good idea to err on the side of caution with these things, and take care with heeding their advice.

While their advice often is a very bizarre set of instructions, following them perfectly will get you exactly the result the mysterious old woman advertised, without fail. If she advertises a fixed roof if you were to weave a net made of reeds picked only at midnight on a new moon and then drape it over your roof at sunrise, or a full stomach if you filled a large pot with clear water, acorns, and fresh wildflowers and put it over a fire and leave it to simmer for four hours, you will get a fixed roof or a pot filled with delicious stew. If you follow the instructions exactly.

If you don't, you could get something else entirely.

space_between

Here is a young woman curled up on a bed, shivering, having thrown off her blankets when she woke earlier.

She is asleep. For now.

four_is_death

The lockpicks slide against each other with a gentle metal-on-metal sheeee, then click solidly into place.

Sophia smiles beneath her mask. "Got it."

light_another_life

Sea monsters aren't typically in this area, but sometimes things can go wrong and a sea beast will rise up from the depths to try and drag the ship down with them to munch on the tasty humans inside. Sometimes when this happens, the ship gets away, if the people on it are clever or have the right enchanted items or have a particular talent for magic. More often than not, though - they don't.

So even when a sea monster attack is very, very unlikely, if Lirlaveth notices a ship anywhere nearby, she'll put what she's doing on hold and quietly follow the ship to make sure it's not going to be attacked by a murderous monster that wants to eat humans. Or, if it is, to help prevent the humans from becoming food.

She's spotted one such ship, and so even though it means putting her study into enchantment on hold, she goes to follow it to make sure it'll be all right. Probably just paranoia (sea beast attacks aren't that common), but it might turn out to be justified one day.

will_you_still

Morgan doesn't strictly need to sleep. Even if she didn't want to put up with the annoyance of constantly having a caffeine buzz and having to ask for coffee on almost every summon, there are naps. Naps can keep a daeva going for quite a long time.

But there's something unutterably pleasant about curling up in a proper bed in pajamas and just sleeping. And then waking up and getting breakfast in those pajamas. So she does that, because immortality's a long unpleasant time if you don't enjoy the little things every now and then. Like adorable bunny slippers and soft pajamas and sleeping in.

She's midway through a fruity salad thing that counts as the standard fairy breakfast when she feels the summon. Showing up to a summon in pajamas? Eh. If they're proper summoners she bets they've seen worse, and she doesn't particularly care if they think she's unprofessional.

She puts her spoon down and accepts the summon.

sturdycoldsteel

The Fate who calls herself Mountain tried to convince some of her neighbors to allow the occasional mountain in their lands, for stability purposes.

"I meant no insult!" Dodge ball of lava. "I don't intend to interfere, you said no!" Dodge house-sized spear of ice. "I'm leaving peacefully, okay, so stop tearing up the tile!"

"You'll respawn at home. No permanent damage. You interrupted an important meeting, you need to learn a lesson about territory, mountain bitch." Dodge- no, fail to dodge a thrown tree, and then another ice ball. The next sphere of magma is what destroyed that form.

She wakes up, stripped of all her tools and enchantments and even clothes, and groans in pain.

sturdycoldsteel

Sometimes she just has to get away from the city. Kell and Durant are very firmly on top, and don't much care who they squish anymore. All the little ways they change the city to benefit themselves grate on her nerves. And she knows her strengths lie in magic and engineering, not politics, so when she gets in this kind of mood the only thing for it is to leave for a while.

She's exploring the wilderness near the Western Peaks. Solid stone mountains, sheer cliffs, snow. Harsh but beautiful landscape. One day she wanders into a little valley nestled between two ridges. It would have been hard to find if she was actually looking for it. Near the center is an ancient stone circle of some kind. It reminds her of the bluestream-activating circles, but the pattern of stones is unfamiliar and the bluestream that used to lie there is of course long gone.

She rebalances her backpack (good exercise, lifting a pack without the stream) and starts investigating the stones and ground for writing or inscriptions. She steps into the circle to look on the other side of a stone-

Wait. What. WHERE AM I?

all_too_familiar

Blair has gotten neater with his hunting. Comes with hunting so much. He regularly drinks until he feels like he'd ooze blood if poked with something sufficiently sharp - his sister will be safe from him. She'll be a vampire eventually, but until then, frequent and gluttonous hunting trips.

He's just had one such trip, and feels vaguely sloshy. Despite this, his clothes are in perfect condition. Good job, Blair, you've learned tablemanners. Back home he goes.

furtive_heroics

A man grumbles at the cold. He always grumbles at the cold, here. Everyone does. There's no escaping it. You can wear the warmest clothing possible, sit by a roaring fire, and still the cold bites. It doesn't numb, either, you'd think that after a while you'd just go numb - no. It's not that kind of cold. The victim shivers and curses and bundles up with a thousand layers and still it's so cold that it hurts. Almost everyone here travels from tiny insufficient fire to tiny insufficient fire to insufficient and drafty bar run by a terrifying dragon, trying to stave off the cold. It never works, but it makes it slightly less torturous. And cursing and grumbling at it always helps.

He is not staying here any longer than he has to. He is not going to fucking stay here, no way. He's been through too much to languish as a sacrificial lamb in the eighth circle of hell while an archdevil goes on a rampage. Cania's for traitors. And he's not one. He was loyal until the day he - well, not died. Was banished. And he doesn't deserve to be here.

He'll find a way out. Eventually. And then someone's going to have a very bad day.

But he's not thinking about that right now. He's thinking that he's pretty sure some vital parts are going to turn blue and fall off from the cold, so he's picked the warmest of his available frigid options to try and plan his next move. He'll take the bar with the dragon. He opens the door -

...

And this is not the bar with the dragon. It's much, much warmer.

His head screams trap, but he can't bring himself to close the door and walk away. Inside he goes, shivering. Warmth.

roboticlin

Snap. Cross another thing off my companions can't do.

"Whoops. In we go!" and in that half-cat runs. Sure, i know i can't be silent in heavier armor, but that quickly she gives up?

"Shouldn't we follow her in?" the third member, a half-fox, states while he already is running to catch up.

Halta sighs, for the fifth time about her companions today. Being part of the three that managed to brave the southern wild lands, scour the beasts that lay in the forests, and defeat the entrenched bandits was proof of her and their combat skill. Leading and supplying enough men down here to construct and maintain a town for a year where nobody could remain a season was all in part to distracting the other two long enough. A 'Queen' title out of independence means little so far when you control a sole frontier town and the other two important members can't do anything but fight harder than everything else.

A quick self check. Her sword is instinctively drawn, shield at the ready. Holy symbol grasped for a quick prayer around her neck, then put back under her armor with decals of her Holy Order. Copper hair still tied back, silly 'crown' let at the fort.

The issue at hand shouldn't be very difficult, but it became complicated. A small cult may be in the warehouse they've ran towards, a group of spurned women doing petty revenge. The problem lies that after a fiasco earlier, Milah the half-cat 'spymaster' made herself look more imcompetent by acusing various people, and Vox the half-fox 'Minister' has been doing his job from the bar as of late. Hopefully everybody is still alive when i get down there.

Halta starts running. The main door broken open, a trapdoor left ajar, and through a small tunnel dug through the rock. She catches up to them, right as they run into the room, a hidden shrine to a dark goddess. A second too late, as the only one of the three with magic, they wouldn't notice the trap laid out.

A sermon that contains a spell. Cultists hiding in secret as the open listeners are illusionary.

Halta had barely enough time to cross the room to take the majority of the hit. Hasty spells couldn't protect them, it had to work this way.

Let them fight, i can heal myself. Heres hoping this time they listened stick together instead of-- a bad situation. Milah chose to drive forward at the leader, Vox choosing to back up and attack the cultists.

A quick step up, a strike towards the three that jumped at her, striking the first across the chest. The second swing a miss, the cultist may be empowered, but something is wrong. Feint from the third, strike from the first barely blocked. They can't be trained, pushing too far so i can't get back up, but this sluggishness!

The three quickly step back, as from the altar rockets another blast. The second was enough. Head spinning, body feeling detached, a scream for a moment's talk increases the ringing in her head as the room gets surveyed. Halta on her backed, their leader stands atop the altar at swordpoint of Milah, with a cultist holding a knife to Halta. Vox, nearer the door, seems to have beaten his attackers but stands wounded. Halta's Holy Symbol, the tool needed to cast spells, kicked into the corner, that leaves her defenseless right now.

"I've gotten your leader! Release our prophet or she dies!" How did this happen? How are they able to use this much magic in secret?!

A shrill cry pierces the haze. Milah called the bluff. The Cult Leader's head flies upward and Vox dives towards Halta, but arrives too late. The knife plunges down.

Pain? Calm. Sorrow? Regret. Anger? Nowhere.

Where was the light? Or is there even one? To my god?

. . . A breeze? What?

witchwatcher

For a brief moment, in a certain part of fairyland there is a tear that leads to the cold sky above a snow-covered hilly forest somewhere in the mortal world.

mswoods

The thirteen-year-old girl is coming back home from school, on foot.

There's a cat following her. It's been following her for a while, but from a distance.

She decides to be friendly. She stops and turns around to look at it. It stops as well. "Mow?"

The girl's face- changes. It's still a human face, mostly, but now there's something different about it. More feline than anything. Whiskers grow, her pupils dilate and her eyes get a bit rounder, her bones move under her skin, their shape changing a bit. "Mew," she says, vocal apparatus having changed a bit, apparently.

The cat blinks and approaches cautiously. "Moow...?"

She doesn't giggle, but she feels like giggling. She's talking to a kitty! Well, kinda talking to a kitty, it's not like she can understand kitty-speech. But still! "Maw!"

intricate_engineer

It was a trap.
Glen should have seen it coming, but she'd thought the offer might be genuine. Wasn't the possibility of immortality worth the risk?
Well, not this time.
Her pendant, her way out, was broken.
She tried to use it anyway.

all_too_familiar

Blair can't actually track witches with his power, nor does he try to find them with it, but when his scenery abruptly changes from city to the middle of the forest he immediately thinks he accidentally found one and pissed them off, and is alarmed.

And then he is very alarmed because all of his magical signatures of people stop pointing at where the people are. Instead the signatures are confused. They haven't disappeared, so presumably the people that own them are still alive, he just - can't find them.

What kind of crazy meta power is this? He stretches out with his power, looking for the nearest person, looking for something like civilization.

all_too_familiar

Sometimes witches have powers before they turn. But this is rare, uncommon.

More often, a potential witch displays almost nothing out of the ordinary at all. Just, say, a little more skill with people, a little more natural charisma. An extra dose of something that could almost be called luck, if one were paying attention and on the lookout for witches.

There is one such maybe-potential, right over there. He's not from around here, but he is fluent in Italian and French and German and he professes that English is his first language and laughs when people call him a liar because of his perfect accent. He might not be the most powerful, but a polyglot witch could be useful for something. And who knows, maybe there's more to it.

Maybe someone would care to find out.

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Page generated Mar. 13th, 2026 11:42 am

Glowfic (an RP community)

Entries tagged with continuity: sandbox

A Sith Lord's Agenda

worlds apart

Wander about looking dismayed

proceed to new world (do not ask questions, do not collect delightful prizes)

A Rose, Unnaturally

Part of your world

My bunny slippers just ran for cover

Mountain, meet Endbringer

stones and sticks

Pleasant walk in the woods

Just a bit chilly

Start of a New Adventure

witchcraft and sorcery

there's only so much I can turn into

between then and know

This one's different

Finders Keepers

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